


I'm proud of you

by WhisperingMagpie



Series: Prompts [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Death, Gen, Guilt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/pseuds/WhisperingMagpie
Summary: @theboykingsbrokencrown said:Aftermath of Sam and Dean’s first hunt without John?





	

Blood splattered on him. Sam screamed and stumbled backwards.

‘Saaam!’ his brother had called out, running towards him. ‘Shoot it!’ Dean had yelled.

Sam hesitated for a moment, and then the thing was almost on him, and he fired. The creature that had once been human dropped like a stone and lay on the ground, gurgling and twitching for a few seconds before laying still.

Dean reached him and touched his shoulder. “Hey, you alright, Sammy?”

Sam watched as the thing let out its last shuddering breath, in shock. He looked at the gun in his hands. He’d never killed anything before. Dad never let him go on hunts yet. He was only fourteen.

Dean announced one day that they were going, when Dad left them alone next time. They’d find something small for Sam to practice on. He would stay behind Dean and follow him, just to observe. They never expected the creature to corner Sam like that.

Sam slowly looked up at his brother’s worried eyes, and shoved the gun at him. “There was a person in there, Dean. It used to be human!”

Dean tucked the gun away quickly before gripping both of Sam’s shoulders, leaning down to look him in the eye. “No, Sam. It was a monster. There’s nothing we could have done to save it. Come on, we need to get out of here.”

Dean pulled him towards the car, and Sam allowed himself to be dragged, mumbling as Dean stuffed him into the backseat where he could lay down. “I killed it. I saw it die.”

Dean pulled off his jacket and tucked it against the door, propping Sam against it. He frowned. He hadn’t meant for Sam’s first hunt to end up like this. Sam would be in shock. It had happened to Dean too, after his first few kills. “Gonna be okay, Sam. I’ll take you back to the motel, and we’ll find some crap late night cartoons to get your mind off it.” He dug in the glove compartment and pulled out a small silver flask, handing it back to Sam. “Here. Just a few sips. It’ll calm you down.”

Sam unscrewed the cap and sniffed, recoiling at the scent of whiskey. “I can’t. I’m too young.”

Dean shook his head as he started up the old Impala. “Its fine. You need it.”

Sam took a small sip and coughed, then another, and another. He put the lid back on the flask and tossed it in the front seat. The burn faded to warmth in his chest. He pulled his arms into his hoodie sleeves and curled up, trying to stop the shaking that he felt starting. He’d killed. Something was dead because of him. That wasn’t what their family was supposed to be about. The part about saving people. That was what he wanted to do.

All he could see was the creature falling to the ground, blood pooling around its corpse. Sam brought up his sleeves and wiped at his face. Dark, greasy monster blood smeared onto his hoodie. Sam let out a whine and quickly peeled off his sweatshirt, tossing it to the far side of the car.

“Sam?” Dean peeked over the seat for a split second, concerned. “Hang on, almost there.”

Sam just curled in on himself, arms around his knees, shallow breaths coming quickly.

What felt like hours later, they pulled up in front of the motel, and Dean opened the back door, picking up Sam’s discarded hoodie. He leaned in and carefully pulled Sam out of the car, arm around his shoulders. “Just need to get inside, Sam.”

He unlocked the door and set Sam down on the end of the bed, kneeling down and pulling off his shoes and socks. He tugged off Sam’s jeans and tshirt until he was down to his boxers, and then stripped off his own blood soaked clothes, tossing them all in the bathtub and filling it with water to wash later.

He returned to Sam, who had drawn his knees up to his chest, staring at the carpet. Dean brought a glass of water over and knelt down, gently pulling at Sam’s limbs until he uncurled before offering the water. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sam. That thing was a monster, and it was hurting people. You did good. First hunt went a little crazy, but you were good out there. I’m proud of you.”

Sam drained the glass of water in silence before slowly looking up. “Really?”

Dean took the glass away and set it on the nightstand before tugging Sam backwards up the bed, pulling the covers over them. He pulled Sam to his chest and stroked his hair. “Yeah. You’re gonna be a great hunter.”

Sam relaxed tenfold as he snuggled up to his older brother, legs tangling, arms tucked up against his chest.

Dean frowned as he watched Sam fall asleep. Sam shouldn’t have had to become a hunter at all. Sam should be in school, worrying about making friends.

Instead he was living in shady motels, learning at only fourteen years old, that sinking a bullet into warm flesh was nothing like practice shots at old rusty cans.


End file.
